Shedding Those Genealogical Pounds

     

     As we move many of our genealogical tasks to digital formats, some of the tools we used years ago become obsolete.  They retreat further and further into the backs of drawers, closets, and attics, rarely to be seen.  Among those items in my household which qualify are:  more than one typewriter, the personal microfilm reader (this was sold by a microfilm rental company which has long been out of business), and the plastic film canisters (have kids now ever seen rolls of film?) filled with quarters and dimes, for those library jaunts requiring many trips to the copy machine.

     I ran across one item that I've decided to let go, but not without a pang of regret.  This is a briefcase given to me as a gift by my mother, Joan L. Eckerson Anderson, in the very early 1980s, at the start of my genealogical career.  It's nothing special in terms of value or appeal:  the brand is an Airway, and it seems to have been constructed of imitation everything.  But, its significance to me is that it represents the support and love of my mom.  She found my work in genealogical research something to be proud of.

     Recently, I finished Geoff Rasmussen's book, Kindred Voices, in which he talks about letting your ancestors guide you in your search for their stories.  He referenced a funny quote I'd never heard before.  It's something like, "I've never seen a U-Haul following a hearse," which is another way of saying you can't take it with you.  My mother ignored this, and really did try to take it with her.  Now that she's gone, however, I believe I can let the briefcase go without causing hurt feelings.
     She did leave me something to replace it with, in a roundabout way.  My sister sent me this lovely leather case that had been in my mom's house:  one of her thrift shop finds.  I had glanced at it once and admired its handsome construction.  The rumor was that it had belonged to a college instructor.  Its nearly-new condition may have had something to do with the fact that it weighs about 40 pounds empty!
     This Christmas season it found a new purpose:   housing a stuffed animal collection.  I'll find other ways to re-purpose it during different times of the year.  While this may be a comedown from the halls of academia, it's far better than hiding in the dim shadows of the closet, banished by the iPad.  
     

 Thanks, Mom!

William Thompson: Fiance material? Perhaps...

     

John Alden and Priscilla wedded - McLoughlin Bros, 1903

     We've all been there:  an acquaintance or relative starts seeing someone romantically, and we begin evaluating whether or not they make a good pair.  Whispered conversations take place, and judgments are passed.  

     Most of us, however, don't expect to see our opinions lead to a fine levied against the would-be groom by the court system, which is what happened to an indignant William Thompson, in Colonial Massachusetts.
     On my first trip to the Massachusetts State Archives recently, I was treated to a lovely facility with many indexed records.  While scrolling through a microfilm of volume nine of the Massachusetts Archives Collection, I spotted an intriguing entry.  Volume nine of the collection is described by a title made for browsing:  "Domestic Relations."  The index, besides giving a name and page number, gives the nature of the case.  I think I could have spent the entire day looking up the statements in these cases, so vividly detailed were the pictures they conjured up.  This index appears to have been created at some point much later than the events, but was still very old.  The archives' website describes the collection as a whole:   "...includes original records of the governor, Council, General Court, secretary, and treasurer, is an important source of records for early Massachusetts, Maine, and New Hampshire.  The collection is unique in the quantity of seventeenth-century records it contains, and this richness continues throughout the eighteenth century, with voluminous amounts of Revolutionary materials."  

Detail from Volume 9, Massachusetts Archives Collection, photo by the author

     At some point in May of 1653, the following testimony was given:  "Petition of William Thompson to be excused from a fine laid on him, because he proposed marriage to Sarah Cogan, without first consulting her friends."

     Time didn't allow me to pursue the ultimate fate of William's pursuit of Sarah.  Was this a standard approach taken, when protocol was ignored?  Was she embarrassed or offended by his attentions?  Or did they experience a life together?  No matter the cause or the outcome, I had no problem picturing her "friends," the early-day Puritan busy-bodies, whispering behind their hands to each other.  After long days of labor in a harsh environment, followed by long hours spent at religious services, the couple's drama was perhaps a bright spot.  
     When we engage in modern-day gossip, we certainly aren't doing anything new.

         

         

But Wait - There's More! Selah Graves

   

     As ancestral sleuths, we are often told that it's a good idea to maintain a genealogical research plan, and keep track of negative findings as well as positive results.  But, just as often, my mind doesn't work like that.  Part of the fun for me, is to trip over a random genealogical discovery.  I have the kindness of others to thank for much of this; people have taken pains to transcribe, and make available online, obscure records that would otherwise be forgotten.
     Take this example:  I don't even remember how it popped into my head to search for my ancestor, Selah Graves, who died in Pike, Wyoming County, New York.  I put together his name in quotation marks, along with another descriptor, perhaps "Pike," and performed a Google search.  Low and behold, one of the results led me to another part of Selah's life that I had known nothing about:  his affiliation with the Masons.
     In 1828, Selah is described as the Master of the Morning Star Lodge, #295 in Pike, Wyoming County, New York.  In this capacity, his name appears on a letter to the state governing board of the Masons, describing the plight of his local lodge.  They had gone from 50 members to 15, "willing to stand the shock against Masonry."  They had used all their funds to build a hall, two of their wealthy members had died, and they were $80 in debt.  They asked if they could forgo paying dues at that time.  Failure to be granted this request would probably result in the Lodge's "Stopping Work."  The letter also records the name L. Couch, secretary.

     From a Wikipedia entry comes the following:  "William Morgan (1774–1826?) was a resident of Batavia, New York, whose disappearance and presumed murder in 1826 ignited a powerful movement against the Freemasons, a fraternal society that had become influential in the United States. After Morgan announced his intention to publish a book exposing Freemasonry's secrets, he was arrested on trumped-up charges. He disappeared soon after, and is believed to have been kidnapped and killed by some Masons.

The allegations surrounding Morgan's disappearance and presumed death sparked a public outcry and inspired Thurlow Weed and others to harness the discontent by founding the new Anti-Masonic Party in opposition to President Andrew Jackson's Democrats.  It ran a presidential candidate in 1832 but was nearly defunct by 1835."

     And so, not only have I gained another piece of evidence that helps me build a picture of my ancestor in particular, but I've also learned something about how he fit into the history of the time, and how he was impacted by a larger story.

     My thanks to Gary L. Heinmiller, who compiled various records of local Masonic Lodges in upstate New York.  The file can be accessed here:  http://www.omdhs.syracusemasons.com/sites/default/files/history/Craft%20Masonry%20in%20Livingston%20County.pdf

     

Lambert Eckerson home, Fawn River, St. Joseph County, MI

"Residence of L. Eckerson - Fawn River -Mich."
Original photo in possession of the author

     My great-grandfather, John Levi Eckerson, spent many years working his way from Michigan to Washington state, but there are few details of how or why he made the journey.  In 1880, he is found described on the census as "boring wells," and living as a boarder.  This was in Belvidere, Thayer County, Nebraska.  This may not have been a random decision, because his great-uncle, Willard W. Morgan, had also moved there in 1871.  In 1889, John L. Eckerson can next be found in the territorial census for Washington, living in Thurston County, single and working as a carpenter.  An 1891 newspaper notice states that his leg was broken while loading heavy timber onto railroad cars in Centralia, Lewis County.  He had evidently moved across the country living a rough and tumble existence.

     At the ripe age of 44, John L. Eckerson married 20-year-old Estella Channell in Lewis County, Washington.  A newspaper account of the event states that she was "quite a catch."  Perhaps they didn't quite understand her attraction to him, either!

     There is evidence that most of John Eckerson's siblings eventually moved west as well:  his older sister, Helen Butz, and his brothers Frank and Ernest are all found in Washington and Oregon.

     When I began my journey in genealogy, I asked my grandfather, John and Stella's only child, Harold Eckerson, where his father had come from.  The answer was always the same, "Hell's Half Acre!"  This was his way of saying he had no clue.  But if he'd bothered to look at the evidence, the answer might have been different.

     One of the items that somehow found its way west, was this photograph of the home in Fawn River, St. Joseph County, Michigan, where John L. Eckerson had grown up.  His parents were Lambert and Harriet Graves Eckerson, who had come to Michigan from Western New York.  Thankfully, the photograph is clearly identified as being the residence of L. Eckerson.

     There is a teenager standing in the center of the picture.  Is this John, on the cusp of his westward adventures?

     

No German? No problem! Lurena Largent

     The value of newspapers in our ancestral research can't be stressed often enough.  For those of us whose forebears didn't have the courtesy to leave a large paper trail in court documents, their occasional appearance in the local paper is spotted with excitement.  At last, another crumb to follow!
     But newspapers weren't published for the benefit of someone in the future studying their ancestry.  They were mostly printed on cheap materials meant to be thrown away.  Where they survive, the runs of available copies probably aren't complete.  Currently, online access represents only a portion of what might be locked away in distant vaults.  Where an "index" of sorts is available, it probably relies upon OCR (optical character recognition) technology, which produces either false positives, or misses entries entirely.  Blurred, water-stained pages with antique font are not technology-friendly.
     As is the case when using any sort of record, the biggest obstacles might be those we place in our own way.  Take, as an example, this entry pertaining to my ongoing research into the Largent family, of West Virginia, Kentucky, Ohio, and Indiana.
     A search on a newspaper portal for the name "Largent" generally returns a daunting number of hits.  That's because the word "largest" routinely shows up as a false positive.  One has to be prepared to wade through a lot of those, in hopes of finding one where the surname actually appears.  Which is what happened when I spotted "Lurena Largent" in the list of results.  The surrounding language not only was the usual garbled attempt produced by OCR, it wasn't even English, but what I recognized as German.  Here is the actual digitized document:

Indiana Tribüne, Volume 9, Number 203, 13 April 1886

      
     This image is courtesy of the Hoosier State Chronicles, part of the Indiana State Library.  It currently displays over 362,000 pages of Indiana newspapers.  Note that the title of the paper, the Indiana Tribüne, features an umlaut, a mark placed over a vowel in German and Hungarian.  This labor newspaper was published in Indianapolis for 53 years, claiming in 1898 to have the largest circulation of the German-language daily papers in Indiana.  It ceased publication in 1918, amid strong anti-German sentiment throughout the country during WWI.
     Closer examination shows that Lurena's name appears among those "heirathen," which means to marry or wed.  The names above are "Geburten" or births.  Using other sources, I have established that Lurena Largent is a distant cousin of mine with several removes.  Nothing in her ancestry suggests a connection to the German language.  What little I know of her husband, William W. Hutchins, doesn't either.  I believe these events were routinely copied out of local civil registers for publication.  The inclusion of Michael O'Donnell in the births would seem to confirm that.
     So, what if I'd gone about this search in a different way?  What if I'd looked at a list of available newspapers and said, "Oh, I won't bother with that one, it's in German, and she wouldn't be there."  What if this is the only place she's named?  This is one of those couples whose paper trail is meager. 
     The most frightening question I came away with?  What have I missed along the way?

     
  

My (Almost) Brush With Fame: Rose A. Simpson Riney

     

Rose A. Simpson Riney, photo courtesy Lillie Riney, findagrave.com

     Raking the leaves of the family tree sometimes turns up information that has us excited for at least a moment.  Is it possible we share the ancestry of a famous and well-regarded figure from history?  Or, perhaps we share a talent or characteristic of a more well-known distant cousin?  Sometimes, we get dazzled by the possibilities, and abandon sound research practices, in order to chase "our" star relative.   Luckily, I had studied my ancestry long enough, to know that when I read my distant grandmother's obituary, the last paragraph was based on wishful thinking, not fact.

     Rose (Rosa) A. Simpson was born in Kentucky in 1810, and lived well into the 20th century, her death occurring in December of 1908 in Lewis County, Missouri.  On her 19th birthday, in 1830, she married Richard Riney in Sangamon County, Illinois.  They eventually settled in Missouri, and were instrumental in the founding of the Shrine of St. Patrick in Lewis County, Missouri.  More information at:  St. Patrick Shrine .
     The last paragraph of her obituary would create excitement, to those not familiar with her story.  After all, Boones in Kentucky must all be related, right?  Well, no.

Obituary  published  22 December 1908 in The Quincy (Illinois) Daily Herald

     Besides the vast amount of available, verifiable information about Rosa's family, a quick look into Daniel Boone's own history reveals problems with the newspaper story.  His birth actually occurred in Berks County, Pennsylvania, in 1734.  His father, Squire Boone, had emigrated as a teenager to Pennsylvania from England.  Around 1750, the family moved to the Yadkin River valley of North Carolina.  Daniel Boone's earliest trip to Kentucky took place when he was in his mid 30s.  This family had followed the Quaker faith in both England and America.
     Rose A. Simpson did indeed have a Boone surname in her heritage.  Her mother, Mary Alice Boone, was the daughter of John Boone, whose will was written in Washington County, Kentucky, in 1809.  This family had long been connected to the Catholic Church.  An earlier John Boone had donated land on which a Catholic Chapel was erected around 1710 in St. George's County, Maryland.    This family was part of what legend calls "The Maryland League," groups of Catholic families who, beginning in the 1780s, banded together to emigrate from Maryland to Kentucky.  Rose's grandfather, John Boone, was part of the Hardin's Creek settlement, which was later known as Saint Charles, Saint Mary's, and finally, St. Mary.  This part of Washington County was divided off into Mercer County in 1834.
     Interestingly, the newspaper obituary for Rose Simpson Riney published closer to her residence in Missouri, doesn't make mention of a connection to Daniel Boone.  Perhaps, as often happens, a descendant in Quincy really wanted for the story to be true.
     While the Maryland Boones may owe thanks to Daniel Boone for making it possible to settle later in Kentucky, they otherwise may have only shared a connection in the distant past.  They certainly couldn't claim him as their "Uncle Dan."

Note, the excellent online newspaper records of the Quincy, Illinois Public Library have been an invaluable source in my research.  They are available here:  Quincy, Illinois newspaper research .

   

Heritage Roses: Myers-Burgard property, Centralia, WA

Photos of the "mystery roses" by the author

     I have written before, about having visited the site where the home of Isaac L. and Esther Burgard Myers was located.  It stood at the southeast corner of Gold and Locust Streets in Centralia, Lewis County, Washington.

     When I first began going to view the property, the house they had built around the turn of the 20th century was still standing, although in very bad shape.  On later visits, the house had finally been pulled down, the site cleared and put up for sale.
     Along the rear of the property was a fence, where a wild tangle of various plants grew unchecked.  Since I always visited in the summer, I was able to see that some of them were a few different varieties of roses in bloom.  Although I'm no rose expert, a couple of these seemed to have characteristics of roses first introduced many, many decades ago.  There was also a grape vine of some type, probably that of a table grape.

    Eventually, my husband and I managed to successfully take some cuttings off the various roses, and propagate them two states away at our home in California.  One is a very pale pink, with fragile blooms of the "old-fashioned" variety.  It blooms briefly in late spring.  The other is a vigorous plant that grows like a weed, wherever it puts down roots.  It's a very strong pink color, and has a long blooming season.  Sadly, the attempt to successfully grow a cutting from the grape vine was a failure, despite several tries.

     There is no way of knowing whether these plants were those known to, or planted by, Isaac and Esther Burgard Myers.  But, in my mind, I'd like to believe that perhaps, as they lived out their golden years at this location, they also enjoyed a chance to "stop and smell the roses."

He's Just Not That Into You: James Willison & Violet Blackmore

     The approach taken by the individual responsible for putting final court records down on paper can make a huge difference in what can be learned about our ancestors.  In Hamilton County, Indiana, during the 1820s, that person apparently had an endless supply of ink and paper, an abundance of energy, and the personality of a born gossip.

     Take, for example, the petition for divorce filed by James Willison against Violet Willison on 18 July 1827.  It states that the two were married in 1823, and that she was the former Violet Blackmore.  His statement has some dramatic quotes, such as, “with whom he lived demeaning himself toward her in all respect faithfully and affectionately” until about 1 May 1825 “she abandoned him.”  On Violet’s side, she said, “He would divide his pork and dodger* with her, but that he would not sleep with her.”  Violet went to live with her parents, stating that “she would live with him if he slept with her.”

     Ultimately, the court found insufficient evidence for divorce.  She should recover her costs from him.

     Of great interest is the fact that the court session was held at the house of Joseph Willison, and that an associate judge in attendance was William C. Blackmore.  Perhaps neither of them could be considered disinterested parties.

     Intrigued, I did a quick look on Ancestry.com, FamilySearch.org, and the Indiana State Library website.  No evidence is easily found, that a relationship between these two parties ever existed, not in indexed marriage records, and certainly not in unsourced pedigree charts.  There are indeed a couple of men of that name, who lived in Indiana around the right time frame.  Anyone researching a James Willison may want to consider the possibility that another chapter needs to be added to his story.  As for Violet Blackmore Willison, this may be one of the only indications that this woman ever existed.     

     I salute these frontier gossips, who took such time bringing their neighbors to life.

Source:  FHC#2412383 Hamilton Co., IN circuit court final record 1824-1842

*dodger:  a small, hard fried or baked cornmeal cake, a boiled cornmeal dumpling.

Photo courtesy www.flickr.com/photos/lwr/2876984696/

James Suit: Friend AND Foe

    

     Elizabeth Shown Mills, and other respected genealogists, have long emphasized the importance of studying our ancestor’s FAN club:  friends, associates, and neighbors.  While it’s taken me awhile to expand my tunnel vision, and to accept that my research needs to include a larger pool of subjects, I’m beginning to reap the benefits.

     My ancestor, Asa Oren Ives, will never be an easy subject to study.  Although there are strong clues which suggest his origins are in Vermont, I’m focusing now on digging as deeply as I can in Indiana, where known events of his life took place.  Since his paper trail is pretty meager, I've turned my attention to his associates, hoping to create a picture of his life through their experiences.

     At the time of Asa’s 1827 marriage to Mary “Polly” Largent in Lafayette, Tippecanoe County, the bondsman was James Suit.  I wondered what the connection was between this couple and their bondsman, so I began to collect information that might answer the question. 

     The following sketch appears in an historic county history, which has been digitized at http://www.ingenweb.org/intippecanoe/twp.html:  "The first white man to come to Wabash Township was probably James Suit, a trapper, who came in 1822. He employed a number of men to assist him in trapping beaver and collecting wild honey from the forests of Tippecanoe County. He would take these items down the river by flatboat to Vincennes where he would trade for salt, Mackinaw blankets, dry goods, whiskey and general merchandise."    This may conjure up the image of a loner on the move, with no fixed address.  My research proves otherwise.  While James Suit’s occupations required time away from home, he maintained strong personal ties to Lafayette.

  Examination of land records in Tippecanoe County reveals that James Suit and his wife were involved in a number of transactions, which name many other parties.  The name of James’ wife is variously listed as Amy, Bethama, and Bethamy.  In 1828, a marriage for Sarah Suit is recorded, with James Suit named as her father.  James Suit is also shown on a list of potential grand jurors in 1827.  In strong contrast, he was fined twice for assault and battery upon the body of:  Asa Oren Ives!  The two assaults bookended the wedding:  one taking place before, and one after.  They evidently endured a rather tempestuous relationship, to say the least.  They were hardly alone:  the court records are filled with accounts of neighbors settling their differences by less than peaceful means!

     Reaching back earlier in time, James Suit spent a short period as a sergeant in (Christopher) Wood’s 1^st Ohio Company of Spies during the War of 1812.  A John Suit served as a private in the same unit.  This company was formed in Champaign County, Ohio, where James Suit voted in an early Sheriff’s election.  It was also here that he married Amy Davis in 1806.

     The location of Champaign County, Ohio, makes me believe that the basis for James Suit serving as a bondsman, was due to a connection to Mary “Polly” Largent.  Her father and other relatives lived in the same township as James Suit, during the time they were all in Ohio.  Perhaps James Suit took a dim view of Asa Oren Ives as husband material?

     

Wabash River, Lafayette, Indiana.  Taken by the author.

     As I've discovered, when information about our own ancestors is lacking, including the FAN club in our research can be enlightening, fascinating, and highly entertaining!

Who Am I? Burgard Family Photos

   

  A treasure trove of photos have been passed down through my mother's family.  We are luckier than many, having images that stretch back into the nineteenth century.

     Among the earliest examples are the items pictured here, probable members of the Burgard family of Pennsylvania and Astoria, Fulton County, Illinois.  My ancestor was Hester Burgard, born to John and Susannah Hollinger Burgard in Pennsyalvania in 1844.  Hester (Hetty) married Isaac L. Myers in Astoria in 1865.  These photos may show several of her siblings.  This was told to me by my grandmother, who knew Hetty well.  My grandmother was an adult of 28 when Hetty died in 1932.

     Offspring though to have been born to John & Susannah Burgard, with births years, are:  Mary, 1828, John, 1830, Jacob Hollinger, 1834, Catherine, 1836, Peter Henry, 1837, Joseph E., 1838, Daniel 1840, Hester, 1844, Michael, 1846, and Susan M., 1848.

     The ages of Hetty's siblings, together with the style of dress and type of image, might give a hint as to the subjects.  Not being a photography expert, I can only guess at these being daguerreotypes, which were produced beginning in the 1840s, and on into the early 1860s.  The next process which came into use was the ambrotype, which appeared between 1854-1866.

     My examples are in fragile condition.  Some are missing their leather covers, or the covers have become separated from the side with the image.  The one on the upper left depicting a male can’t be seen with the naked eye very well.  It comes to life through the scanning process.  At first glance, it looks like a piece of old mirror.  You can faintly see a face when you hold it sideways in the light.

     An excellent resource for studying this type of question is found at phototree.com, which offers background on the types of photographic processes we are likely to encounter when researching our ancestors.  The have a large library of over 1,000 images for comparison to our own samples, and offer other tips for determining what kind of example we have.

     The Burgard family were members of the Church of the Brethren, which kept to a “plain” style of dress.  Because of this, the young woman pictured in this collection wearing the elaborate hat, and carrying a fur muff, seems to be an anomaly (unless she was the family rebel!).  Perhaps she's a friend or an in-law?  Or the image was mistakenly delivered to the wrong customer?  This leaves six other separate individuals in this grouping of images.  If the photos were taken at around the same time, one might assume that the older two men are among the siblings born the earliest, John, Jacob, or Peter.  Perhaps the beards indicate marriage?  The two younger males in the images might represent Joseph, Daniel, or Michael.  I have pictures of Hetty as an older adult, and I wouldn't say that any of these show the same woman.  This leaves Mary, Catherine, and Susan as potential candidates.  Or, perhaps some of these individuals aren't that close:  in-laws, cousins, or friends.

     This is a fascinating puzzle, and I'd love to know more.  Perhaps you have another copy of one of these images that you know is your ancestor.  If anyone out there can identify one or more of these people more definitely, please let me know at jfproots@gmail.com.  Images can be snagged or saved by right-clicking, and enlarged for further study.

All images in possession of the author, 2015

Did You Lose Someone? Joseph Webb of Marblehead & Myre Wyatt of Kent County, Delaware

     Clues to the origins of our ancestors sometimes lie buried within the pages of early-day local newspapers.  The problem is finding surviving copies, and teasing out the information, which may be sprinkled randomly throughout the stories of the day.  The process of optical character recognition may not correctly interpret faded or uneven printing, assuming the material has even been digitized.

     In sharing these two examples, I hope to offer someone a means of taking their research back to an earlier location.  Or, in the case of someone attempting to discover what became of their east coast connections who disappeared, a clue to where they may have ended up.  The materials were discovered while researching in two areas of the Indiana State Library http://www.in.gov/library/.  The first item was in a book of original newspaper issues in the rare book section, the second is a microfilmed copy.  Note that these are among the earliest available newspapers for that area and time frame.

     The Saturday, March 21, 1829 issue of the Western Agriculturalist & General Intelligencer newspaper, was published in Brookville, Franklin County, Indiana.  It carries the story of Joseph Webb, who committed suicide at the age of 57.  It states that he was a native of Marblehead, MA, and a former resident of Salem.  He’d been in the area where he died for about a year.  At his burial, he was attended by his son and son-in-law.

      The second example is even earlier, published in the Indianapolis Gazette during the month of June, 1822.  A notice is submitted by Henry Hill (perhaps an attorney?), seeking the whereabouts of Myre Wyatt of Kent County, Delaware.  Mr. Wyatt hadn’t been heard of in twelve years, last thought to have been in the area of Dayton, Ohio.  Information would “confer a particular favor on his kinsman.”  This seems rather optimistic, given the amount of time that had passed, but certainly fascinating! 

     Intrigued, I did some digging of my own.  The index on Ancestry.com lists nine heads of household with the last name Wyatt in the 1800 census for Kent County, Delaware.   I did a two minute Google search for a Joseph Webb of Marblehead, and found it interesting that this source mentions a Joseph Webb fitting the time frame, who dropped off the grid:  http://www.webbdnaproject.org/resources/WSDP%20WEBB%20BULLETIN%20Vol%202%20Issue%209.pdf.  His biography begins on page 12 of the document, and makes the following statement:  “No record of the death of Capt. Joseph Webb has been found.  Despite having descendants who lived as recently as the early 1900’s, he appears to have no living Webb Y-DNA descendants.”  Or maybe he does!

All photos by the author